Friends in Snapshot
by TheGreenNGoldAvenger
Summary: The best friend pair head off to the beach, Mush with his "new" camera in tow, and Blink with his past. Can Mush help his best friend get over his fear of the water? And what does any of this have to do with the leader of Brooklyn? Written for Newsies Pape Selling Competition. Total Word Count is 4,548. Rated T for slight gore in second chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**This is written for Circulation 3 of the Newsies Pape** **Selling** **Competition** **. My task is writing about Blink and Mush at the beach, and my prompts are Camera and Blue. The Word Count for this chapter is 2,324.**

 **I (** **unfortunately** **) don't own Newsies.**

"Smile!" Mush kicked at Blink with his foot, for his hands were full from his new camera. Well, not really new. It was a little old, a bit beat up, but really cheap.

Blink rolled over, away from Mush, groaning the whole time. That didn't push the smile off of Mush's face as he kicked him again. "Come on, we gotta get going, or it'll be too hot!" He juggled with the camera to get into one hand, and then he ripped the blankets off of his best friend's bed.

"No..." Blink sat up slowly, half-heartedly kicked at Mush, but got up none the less. "Why d'ya still carry that thing around? You ran out of film las' week." Blink washed his face as Mush sat on the bed. All the other boys had long since left, leaving the two to sleep on their self-proclaimed "day-off".

The sun was already streaming through the window, even though it was only 7 in the morning. "We're wasting daylight, hurry up!" Mush threw Blink's boots at him, and they were barely caught.

"Careful! Stay away from the face." Blink warned, but laughed at the same time.

"Why? You afraid I'll mess it up even more?" Only Mush could get away with a joke like that unscathed. Anyone else would get a fist right to the throat. Or to the gut. Whichever worked. So Kid Blink settled with just shoving Mush's hat down past his eyes to his nose, leaving his smile the only thing visible.

Blink headed down the stairs, with Mush right beside him, threading the camera strap around his neck so that he could let it hang.

"So, why did we decide to go to the beach on a Wednesday?" Blink asked as they headed southeast.

"Ain't it obvious?" Mush paused, but continued after Blink's stare answered that it was indeed, not obvious. "No one goes anywhere special on a Wednesday, people is jus' tryin' ta get through da week." Mush laughed. "There won't be no body dere. We gets it all to ourselves." He spread his arms wide out while his smile lit up the street even more than the sun ever could.

The blond shook his head and laughed gently as Mush inspected his camera. It was a rectangular, gray, box with the lens in the middle of one of the largest sides. It had many buttons and knobs on the sides that Mush was determined to figure out what each one did. Well, he had to get more film first. Gosh, that stuff was expensive.

"Why did you get dat piece of junk anyways?" Blink asked as Mush turned some knobs, and shook the camera.

"Blink, I am surprised! This ain't no junk! Dis is an authentic tool of the arts." He brushed non-existent dust from the box.

"On'y you could say dat, Mush." Blink put his head in his hand, not even bringing up that his question was left unanswered.

The two arrived at their destination. And Mush was right; there was barely anyone near them. As they walked through the sand, Blink was dragging his feet through, making long grooves next to Mush's light steps. They both kicked off their shoes and put their socks inside them. "I don't want anyone takin' dis." Mush put his camera next to a rock and placed his shoes on top of it.

"I don't t'ink you 'ave ta worry." Blink joked.

"Ay!" Mush gently brushed the camera strap out of sight underneath the shoe, and then turned to kick sand at Blink, who dodged and ran towards the bright blue surf underneath the identically blue sky, where there was only one cloud in the sky. "Go away!" Mush shooed the cloud. It didn't move.

Blink looked up towards that cloud, and then towards the horizon. "Ha, it's from Brooklyn. Probably Spot's." Mush laughed and smacked him on the arm.

"Don't let 'im 'ere you say dat," Mush snickered towards the cloud, "he got boirds everywhere." He whispered mysteriously.

"Even on an empty beach? Man, Mush, you do 'ave your 'ead in da sand."

"No, I don't! You do!" Mush tackled Blink to the ground. The best friends bickered for about five more minutes.

The sun rose quickly in the sky and hung, as if nailed there. That one cloud had disappeared, to no one's notice.

It was getting too hot. "Whose idea was dis again?" Blink took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Oh yeah, youse." He slammed his hat back on, trying to block out a few persistent rays.

Mush rolled his pants up to his knees and ran into the water. "Come on, den!"

Blink looked on. "You know I don't swim, Mush!" He stayed sitting on the hot sand.

"Blinkie, you don't have to _swim_ , just stand there." Mush whined. "I won't let anyt'ing 'appen to ya." He extended a hand towards Blink, and beckoned him closer.

With a huff, Blink stood up, rolled his pants up after dusting them off, and stomped towards the water.

The water lapped at his feet, cold in between his toes. He looked from his friend down to his enemy. Even though Blink never told anyone why he would never go in any water, Mush had guessed without saying so, but he never talked to anyone about it.

Mush had gone ahead, knee deep water, climbing onto rocks sticking out of the bay. He sat on one, fingers tight on the slick rock.

"Something touched me!" Blink screamed when he was halfway to Mush. His face scrunched up and his fists clenched when his shoulders rose. He stopped moving.

"Ah, calm down. S' probably a little fish. It's too shallow for anything excitin' 'ere."

"You mean **dangerous**!" Blink yelled through clamped teeth.

Mush patted the rock next to him. "Safe up here." His smile reassured Blink, who relaxed and picked his way through the slight currents. "What's that?!" Mush pointed to the water just in front of Blink's feet when he was about thigh-deep.

Blink tried to step back, but tripped over his own feet and fell backwards into the waves. His scream was cut short by the water filling his mouth. Blink thrashed in the water, failing to gain his bearings. He didn't know where was up, where to go.

Just as he started to sink into panic, one hand grabbed his collar, and another one pulled on his upper arm. His face broke the surface, his throat burned from the salt water, but Blink still took deep, haggard breaths. He felt something kick his legs back under himself. He gained his balance and stood up, shivering from the experience.

He looked to his left and saw Mush, he was the most serious Blink had ever seen him before. There was no smile, just wide, concerned chocolate eyes. His hand moved to his shoulder. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah," Blink coughed. "I think so. Thank you for saving me."

"O' course." Mush led him to the closest rock and went up after Blink was secure. He sat on the tallest one, about a foot higher than Blink.

Blink's fingers fumbled with his eyepatch, a nervous habit that he had picked up. "So, what was that that I almost stepped on?"

Mush scratched his scalp and smiled nervously. "Well," he started. "It was, a, um…" Blink looked up at him curiously. "I was, was. I'm sorry, Blink. I was joking. I didn't see anything." Mush smile turned sheepish.

"You jerk! You know how I feel about the ocean!" Blink shoved Mush, a little harder than he thought, for he tipped over and fell into the water himself. Blink clambered onto the rock that was previously occupied by Mush and peered over the edge where the splash came from.

There was nothing but ripples. Blink was breathless. He had to save him if he was in trouble, for that's what Mush had done, but he didn't want to drown as well. At that moment, something floated to the surface, Mush's hat. Dark gray, almost black from the water. "Oh, God." He whispered. His best friend was gone, and it was his entire fault. Tears sprang to his eye, and he furiously wiped them away.

"What's we cryin' about?" A familiar voice piped up. Blink turned to his left and saw Mush's head, hatless, bobbing up and down in the water. It must be a lot deeper on that side of the rock, for Mush couldn't touch and had to tread to stay afloat.

Blink pursed his lips and glared at Mush as he swan over to get his hat. "You 'ad me worried sick. I thought you drowned!" His voice cracked a little at the end of his sentence.

Mush grabbed the sopping hat, and jostled it on his head, water dripping down his face as he approached the rock and held on with just his hands, not sure if he was allowed back up at the moment. Blink was known to hold grudges, and Mush didn't want his to be held onto. "I'm sorry, Blinkie. I didn't really want to scare you. Are you alright?" Mush was a genuinely concerned person, if you could see through his sarcasm and smiles.

"Yeah," Blink sighed. "I'll be fine."

Mush took that as an invitation back up. He scrambled back up, but this time sat next to Blink. "Can you tell me what happened that day?" Even though he didn't give much clue, Blink knew what Mush wanted to hear about.

The blond looked down at his feet, staying silent.

"Alright, I 'pologize for askin'" Mush muttered.

"'S okay."

They sat in silence under the sun. The seawater in their clothes was quickly replaced with sweat. Blink kept looking off towards the city, away from the vastness of the dark blue.

Blink pulled at his collar, Mush noticed. "The water ain't dat bad, y'know." The blond turned to him with pursed lips. "What?" Blink raised his eyebrows. "Oh, fine. I'll show you." Mush stood up, set his hat by his friend, unbuttoned his shirt and put that down as well and, with a huge stride, jumped into the ocean, sending a wave of water into Kid Blink's face.

Mush surfaced, and turned around to look up. But Blink wasn't looking at him; he was searching the beach again. "Oi! That was impressive! Look at me!" Mush yelled as he swam in small circles, keeping his head on a swivel like an owl.

He turned back once Mush splashed him again. His eye was wide with surprise. "Sorry, uh, very impressive. Can we go now?"

"Are you bored already?" Mush accused and climbed halfway up the rock.

Blink coughed into his elbow. "Maybe." He bit his lip and grinned sheepishly at his friend.

Mush swept his hand from his hips toward the sky, sending a cascade of water on Kid Blink. Blink spat from the sea water, but still climbed down from the rock, landing in the shallow side. He stomped back through the water with a set jaw and arms crossed. Mush watched with wide eyes as his friend left and quickly sloshed through the water to catch up.

When he finally caught up with Blink, he was already pulling his socks on. Mush sat on the rock a little ways from him.

As he picked up his boot, he noticed his camera was not there. Mush quickly pulled up his other shoe, with no luck. He stood up and ran around the rock, seeing if somehow it had moved.

"What's wrong?" Blink asked half-heartedly.

"My camera, it's gone! I put it right 'ere under my boots, but it ain't 'ere no more!" Blink gave a slightly sympathetic expression and went back to lacing up his own boots.

"You! You did something! You hate it, so you got rid of it, you stole it!" Mush stared at Blink, who looked up at him in disbelief.

"Me? Where would I 'ave put that thing? I was with you the whole time; you would 'ave seen me do something!" Blink stood up in defiance. "My pockets ain't that big!"

Mush ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Then give me some ideas of what 'appened." He snapped. He shoved his boots on his feet and his socks in his pockets.

Blink turned towards the city, and down at the sand. "Hey, something wiped out our tracks." Mush walked over. The sand that they had walked through that morning was wiped flat.

"Looks like it was done with a stick." Mush observed the slight zigzag pattern in the sand of someone brushing it clear of footprints with the end. "Probably wiped out his tracks and ours jus' 'appened to be there, too."

"Like a branch?"

"Nah, dis is too straight."

"Den what do you t'ink?"

"I dunno, Blink. Maybe a walking stick, or a cane."

Blink's eye lit up with an idea. "Who do we know with a walking stick or a cane?" He tried to prompt Mush.

"Uh…"

"Come on, Mush! Whose cloud did I say that was dis morning?"

"You said it was from Brooklyn, and so that it was Sp-" He drew a quick breath. "Oh! You think it was Spot who took it?" Mush quietly inquired. Blink slowly nodded. "Alright, let's go." Mush rushed off, but realized he wasn't being followed.

"Blink?"

"I have things to do in 'Hattan today. I'll catch up with you when I can. You got this, I know you do." Blink grinned, and turned back to the city without waiting for Mush's response.

Once alone, Mush took a very deep, slow breath. He suddenly felt very scared. He hasn't even seen Spot since the Strike, and even then, they didn't talk. Spot was always with Jack, David, or Race.

With that comforting thought, he turned and headed towards the Bridge under the bright blue sky.

 **Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think! Look forward to the next chapter being up by Friday!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I changed this story's rating to T, mostly because I'm paranoid, but it's only for a small part of Blink's story for gore.** **Total WC: 4,548**

 **Status update: I still don't own Newsies.**

As Blink walked through Manhattan alone, the flashback's that he usually only got when he was sleeping pierced his inner eye. The memory of that day replayed for the hundredth time:

"Good going, Ryan, looks like a big one!" His father called out to Ryan as his fishing pole stretched down.

The family was out on their boat for the weekend. Ryan, his parents, and his sister, Hannah. The girls of the family were closer to the middle of the boat, laughing at the face Ryan made when his pole was bending so much it was about snap.

His father briskly walked over to Ryan, and showed him how to let some of the line and tension go so the pole wouldn't break. The line whined as Ryan let some loose.

After almost ten minutes, with his father driving the boat to chase the fish, Ryan finally pulled the fish up to the deck, his green eyes sparkling. "Hannah, come on!" He called as he tried to wrestle it over the rail towards him.

"Ew! No way!" Hannah was Ryan's younger sister. She was 7, and he was 9.

"Go on," Her mother urged. Hannah glared, but in good spirit, gently grabbed the fishing line, and gave it a yank. That was enough to get it over the edge, and right on top of Ryan, knocking him to the deck. He quickly shoved it to the side, sitting up as his family laughed.

After they got it under control, the adults decided it was time to head back home. Ryan's father had given him his leather coat when he started shivering since the fish had gotten him wet. It was wrapped around his shoulders, and Ryan thought life couldn't get any better.

And it didn't.

Out of nowhere, clouds rolled in from the sea. Dark gray, they engulfed the harbor around the boat, making them blind. Ryan's father pulled out his compass, and set them towards shore.

The waves rocked the boat in every direction, making it impossible for Ryan's father to steer. Not until that moment did Ryan realize how many jagged rocks there were in the harbor. When a wave went down, you would see the needle points of black rocks.

If the boat was caught at the top of an arch, it careened down towards the bottom as if on a slide. The sound of Hannah's terrified screams pierced the air better than any whistle. She and Ryan both held on to the railing right next to each other. Ryan held a firm grip on the coat; he wanted to be able to return it to his father after they all eventually get back to shore.

But they didn't.

One too many walls of water smashed against the hull, and the boat broke apart. The mast fell towards him. He rolled to the side, and yelled for Hannah to do the same. But she could not hear him over the wind and splintering wood. Ryan never saw her again. She was crushed, or drowned.

Ryan's screams didn't make it past his lips. He didn't have time to scream, screaming couldn't save you. When the mast fell, it cut the boat in half.

In one instant, he saw his parents, clutching each other, on the other side of the boat. Ryan locked eyes with his father. He had never seen him look so scared. They were all so helpless. His dark green eyes seemed to tell him to not give up, but that was the only option that seemed to be open to him.

Another giant wave washed over Ryan's side of the boat, pulling him under, and tearing the railing off deck. It stayed in his hand and his face fell forward, but the wood shot upward, towards the surface. A spoke of wood jammed into his face, scraping all the way from his brow to his left cheek. His scream of pain turned to bubbles and his feet churned the red water, trying to surface.

Ryan broke the surface, taking a gulp of frigid air. The waves had shrunk in size, but not in frequency. His head was constantly going underwater.

When he turned to look around, he saw that there was nothing on the surface except the wood that he was on and even smaller ones.

In one break of fog, he saw a lighthouse shine. He coughed when his blood got in his mouth and mixed with the seawater. He kicked towards the light, with his right hand on the floating wood, and his left was fixed on his father's coat, now pressed up to his eye.

He finally made it out of the black water, and there was someone there. Dressed in overalls and a fishing hat, Ryan thought he must be the owner of the lighthouse. "You all 'ight?" He asked as Ryan climbed onto the rocky shore. His voice was gravelly, but not threatening.

"No," Ryan coughed. "My parents, they're still out there." He turned to go back into the water.

He felt a restraining hand on his shoulder. "No one is out there anymore. I didn't think you would make it all by yourself."

Ryan was led into the lighthouse, he was fed and cleaned up, but not even the most skilled doctors could fix his eye. "That's all I can do, that's all anyone can do." Ryan nodded and turned over his shoulder. The man had a mirror by the door, and Ryan could see his reflection. His face was extremely pale, but his brow and cheek were scabbed, and his eye was bright red. It was horrifying to look at.

Tears welled up, and burned as they touched the scars. He sniffed and tore his gaze from the mirror. Ryan asked if he could have a knife, but the man was hesitant. "I wan' something to cover dis up." Ryan pulled the coat and put in on the table. It's yellow, brown, leather was ripped up too much to be of use.

The man understood and handed him a small pocket knife. Ryan carved out a circle larger than his eye and left enough on either side to make strings. He set the knife down and tied is around his head. He took a small amount of extra gauze and stuffed it inside the patch so it wouldn't get stained, even though he had mostly stopped bleeding. He secured it and stood up.

"You ain't leaving, are ya? It's dead of night."

"I have to, I'm sorry, and thank you so much for helping me." Without a second glance, Ryan darted out the door, deep into the city.

Blink was pulled out of his memory by a horse drawn carriage that got too close.

He can remember of how after that, he had found the Lodging House, and was taken in. Mush was the first one to talk to him. All the boys wanted to give him a name as soon as possible. He was the youngest one there, so some people wanted to call him Kid. One looked at his eye patch and wanted to call him Blinkie. He got punched in the face.

Mush suggested Kid Blink. He accepted, for there was something regal sounding about having a two-part name.

Blink sighed as he thought of Mush. His first friend and he had just sent him into Brooklyn.

Mush made it across the Bridge, and treaded through Brooklyn, heading for the docks, which is where everyone says to go if you need to find Spot.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to rise. He just knew that there were birds in every alley, waiting for word on whether to attack or let him through.

So far Mush wasn't bothered. He wound through the city, following the smell of the sea, he found the docks and saw the Nest. Basically Spot's throne, a tower of fishing crates were tied together with netting and ropes, and Spot was almost always in there during the day. And so he was. Even from afar, Mush could see the red of his suspenders and the glint of the silver of handle on his cane.

Since Mush could see Spot, Spot could also see Mush.

As Mush walked on the boardwalk, Spot flicked a hand to the side. All the newsies stepped to the edges of the dock, to make a path for Mush as he approached the Nest.

"So, the artist has finally come." Spot mocked with his heavy Brooklyn drawl. Soft laughter drifted down from the Nest.

"What d'ya want, Spot?" Mush challenged, feeling particularly brave.

"It ain't what I wish, it's what you wish." Spot gave a cocky smile. With a glance down by his feet, he gave another laugh. He had the camera, and it was in the Nest.

Mush took a menacing step forward. "Give it back! Why d'ya want it anyway? There ain't no film left."

"Well," Spot leaned against the edge of the crate. "I 'ave to keep checking up on Manhattan, but I usually ain't welcome, mush easier to 'ave you come ta me."

Mush was reaching the end of his famously thick patience. "What do you want me ta pass on ta Jack?"

Spot shook his head. "Nah, not Jack. Tell Kid Blink I've done my part." He bent over to pick up the camera. He dangled it over the edge of the Nest. The strap was around his pinky finger, swinging dangerously.

He was stunned into silence. Why did Blink make a deal with Spot, and what was Blink's half?

Some of Spot's boys laughed around him, like they were in on some joke. "Spot!" Mush yelled. All the laughter was instantly silenced. "I'll be taking that now." He stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Suit yourself." He tossed it towards Mush. Mush dove for it so it wouldn't hit the dock and shatter. It landed in his outstretched palms, but the dock scraped up his knees. He didn't care. He stood up quickly, and wrapped the strap around his neck.

The two stared at each other, challenging the other person to say something that would start a fight. Mush was smart enough to not do that when Spot had over 20 of his boys on that dock.

Alright, I've done my part, now get lost." Spot jerked his head towards Manhattan, but he still had a smile.

"What did Blink do? Why did you do this?"

Spot turned more serious. "The correct grammar is 'what is Blink _going_ to do?'."

Mush's eyes were wide with confusion. He suddenly feared for his friend. Without another word, he turned around and sprinted off the dock, back towards the Bridge, jeers and taunts from the Brooklyn newsies seemed to follow him all the way there.

He only slowed down once reached the west side of the Bridge. He still kept up the brisk pace; he needed to find Blink and figure out what is going on.

The only place he could think of to go was the Lodging House. It was late afternoon, so most of the newsies would be back already. Mush could ask around to see if anyone knew where his best friend was.

He held his camera tight; it was a reminder to how he got it.

After he sold his papes, Mush worked at a photography shop. Not as really an employee, but just running random errands in the afternoons. He became close to the owner, a kind, older man.

At the shop, customers could buy and sell their photography equipment, as well as get them repaired. One day someone came in with an old camera they wanted to sell. It was so beat up and battered; the owner couldn't give the customer as much money as he wanted to get for it. Furious, he strode out, leaving the camera without taking what little cash the owner offered.

Mush was there when it happened. He walked up and asked if the old man was okay, for there was a lot of shouting on the customer's part. The owner smiled and thanked him for his kindness. He even offered to give Mush the camera, as he didn't have enough money to pay Mush for his work that week. He gladly accepted, but wanted to pay for it. Mush had nowhere near enough, but the owner didn't want much, and settled easily for two dollars.

When he walked through the Lodging House door, Mush saw that the common room was crowded. He was greeted by various people with a simple "Hey, Mush.", but not by the one person he was looking for.

Jack was the next person to approach him. "Lookin' for Blink?" Jack always seemed to able to read his mind.

"How could ya tell?"

"I've hoird what 'appened today."

"How?"

"A little boird told me." Jack gave a cocky smile and a wink. Mush stared. Did Jack mean something about Spot or Brooklyn?

Mush was about to start asking a plethora of questions, but Jack waved his hand dismissively. "He's out back." He walked away with a small laugh.

He walked the rest of the way through the crowded boys, and out the back door. And as Jack said, Blink was there. The back alley is usually the place where some of the boys would go to smoke, but Blink didn't smoke. He was just standing there, leaning against the brick, like he was waiting for someone.

"Hey," Mush said and walked next to Blink.

"Hey," Blink replied. He had something tucked underneath his am, but Mush couldn't make out what it was.

"I'm sorry I sent you into Brooklyn alone, I-" Blink was cut off.

"Nah, I understand, wait…no, I don't understand. What's been going on?" He turned to face Blink, how was trying to avoid eye contact.

"I…I'm really sorry Mush, I just didn't know how to get rid of you for an hour or so."

"Get rid of me for what?" Mush asked, more hurt than angry.

"You've always been such a good friend to me, and I've never really done anything to repay you. I know what that camera means to you, I hope you can forgive me for putting you in Brooklyn." Blink's eye raked over Mush's scraped knees.

Mush gave a kind smile. "Of course I can, but I still don't know what's going on."

Blink laughed. "I asked Spot to somehow get you into Brooklyn for an hour so I could get something for you."

It all cleared up. Spot was just doing Blink a favor. Blink knew that Spot was going for the camera, so that's why he made huge, long tracks in the sand. To lead him right to it! And Blink always was checking the shore to see if Spot had gotten it and if it was clear to go back.

Mush breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, this is for you. From me, with a little help from the other guys." Blink held out the rectangular box that was under his arm.

It was a box of film.

 **Thank you so much for reading, hope everyone has a great rest of their summer!**

 **(btw, it was** ** _really_** **hard to keep this story form turning into Blush, and I've never even written it before!)**


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